The Hunger Games: Memories Never Fade
by Dynamite-Dreams
Summary: Nobody really knows what happens after a victor is crowned, when the arena is emptied, funeral pyres lit and the families consoled. Nobody really knows. After the world is rid of The Capitol, Savannah Paris tries to start again, lead an ordinary life. She enrolled at school. New place, new friends, new identity. But The Capitol are not forgetful and they certainly aren't forgiving.
1. Prologue

**Memories Never Fade**

**Prologue**

It's hard to say where this nightmare really began. You could say it started the very moment I was born, you could say it began when I was reaped for the Hunger Games. You could say it commenced at any point in my life but I'm going to start here. Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, have I?

Hello, my name is Savannah Paris and I am a student at Redbrooke High School. I am 16 years old with blonde hair and blue eyes and the school's star Volleyball player. I transferred over to Birmingham from the United States awhile back after my birth family died in a car crash and am now currently living with my Godparents and god brother. That's how I used to introduce myself. Or in more accurately, the lie I used to hide my past. The fabrication I used regularly, until now.

You want the truth? Okay. I'm Savannah Paris and I am the 73rd Hunger Games Victor. I'm 16 and I've probably killed more people than most of the criminals that are jailed for it. I moved from Panem to the United Kingdom after we beat The Capitol in the rebellion and I'm currently living with people of whom I have no relation whatsoever. I'm more skilled with knives and spears than English and Maths, but hey, when you've been in more than one life-or-death situation, you learn to get your priorities straight. There's not much point in using the old introduction nowadays, fighting a war against The Capitol.

I didn't _ask_ to be born into District 11, I didn't _ask_ to be reaped into the Hunger Games, I didn't _ask_ to be part of a rebellion and I _certainly_ didn't ask The Capitol to make a comeback. But guess what? They did. The Capitol were in charge. That was the message they were conveying, as if our deaths proved their superiority.

My story is not a fairy-tale. Life rarely is. But there are times when it begins to feel that way and you begin to identify symbolic characters; the evil villain, the brave hero, the dashing young prince and you realise life isn't so far off the stories. But don't let that fool you. Fairy-tales have happy ever afters and that is probably the main difference between my life and a fairy-tale, there was never any happy ending for me.

Living under The Capitol was pretty terrible and most of the time, it got you killed in nasty, painful ways. Complain all you want, but let me, in three words, fill you in on everything I know about life. It goes on. On and on, it seems endless when you have so many deaths on your conscience, so many questions you have nobody to answer.

Then life decides to be kind and it gives you a friend. The definition of friend is very loose, there friends that are more like acquaintances, a person whom you know. And then there are _best _friends. The ones that are with you through thick and thin, that support you and know everything about you. I got one of _those _minus the knowledge of me. Knowledge is a dangerous tool and the power to use that knowledge even more hazardous. If_ you_ knew somebody you love could be harmed by that knowledge, would you tell them? Would you be risky enough to let someone in? I wasn't.

But there comes a time when it's not your choice anymore. There is always _someone _who remembers your deepest secrets, _someone _who is willing to be the end of you. And that's how it falls apart. You can destroy evidence, remove the traces of your past, and hide the footsteps of your previous paths. But you can't delete what people remember, it is impossible to get away from living proof of your deeds. It's the one thing you cannot change, _memories never fade._

**SO! That's a little taster for what's to come in this story, it's a very different kind of Hunger Games Fanfiction and you will notice some familiar faces along the way! For now, review! I have a lot of the chapters for this prewritten and I am very certain of the direction it is going in, there is a lot more to come I promise, and a lot more twists and turns I don't think anyone will expect me to take! The chapters will obviously be longer than the prologue guys!**

**Savannah Paris: Emilie Voe Nereng**

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**R &R xoxo**


	2. Chapter 1: Stomach Ache

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 1; Stomach Ache**

"**I've never actually hugged a bear but if being cuddled by a bear consists of lack of air, broken bones and restricted movement, then I've pretty much nailed the description of a hug off Louie Hunter."-Savannah Paris**

A cold, wintery picture greeted my eyes that morning; frost bitten, bare trees stood lankily, towering into the cloud-filled sky. Every source of water was seemingly glazed over, frozen by the arctic temperatures and bitter winds, and the whole town dusted in a light layer of snow. Welcome to Kingswood, home to some of the coldest temperatures ever recorded in British history. Nice, huh?

You might wonder what brought me to a place like Kingswood, most did. Moving from the bountiful meadows of District 11 to the freezing nothingness of here confused most people, the simple answer is I _had_ to. I couldn't bear to relive the final moments of so many of my family and friends again and again, and all the blooming daffodils and flourishing blossoms seemed to do was remind me of them.

But I was wrong in thinking I could escape the horrors altogether. Not a day passed by when I didn't think about them. Not day passed when I didn't hope and pray they had reached a better world than the one they were ripped from.

I propped myself up onto my elbows and looked at the calendar. Ugh, _Monday_. I hate Mondays. For most, Monday's marked the start of a new school week, the beginning of another five days of essays, detentions and depressingly long pieces of homework. But for me it marked the beginning of another week of lies. What's the worst lie you've told this week? Maybe you told your teacher that you _'lost your homework' _when in reality, you just _didn't _do it. Or maybe you told your parents that _'you've got a headache' _when actually, a test you haven't revised for is due that day. Whatever your story is, it's nothing on mine.

Take the biggest lie you've ever heard. Now I want you to double it, triple it, quadruple it and you still won't be anywhere near mine, not even _close._ You see my life isn't _my_ life. Take the 'f' from the word and you are much closer to my time here in Kingswood. Lie.

Not completely and utterly but most of my time here is closer to fantasy than fact but, hey with a past like mine, you'd prefer fabrication any day.

As I struggle into my clothes (A/N: Remove the spaces www .polyvore mcgi /set? id= 54031140) I hear a shout from downstairs,

"Savannah, are you _trying _to make us late?" I chuckle as I run down the stairs grabbing my phone as I pass, shoving it into my bag.

"I'm ready!" I grin as I reach the bottom of the stairs only to have three people greet me there. Meet the Paris Family, the people legally obliged to look after me until I've turned 18, the people morally obliged to lie for me. There's Esme, my make-do Mother. Evan, my fake Daddy and Alec plays the brother role. For it is not blood that binds us together, it is secrets. _My _secret to be more specific.

They can pretend to be my family but it's like a script, the words aren't theirs.

"Well, thank you!" Alec grins, "For getting us late to school for the past five Mondays!" He ruffles my hair fondly. Like I say, they can _pretend_ and to be frank, they do a pretty good job of it. Then, Alec pulls me so hard out of the door that I can barely catch Esme's 'Have a good day kids!" before I am in the open air of Kingswood.

If you are a holiday-goer and are planning a trip here sometime soon, my advice is wrap up warm. In fact, pack the way you might for Antarctica or Greenland because no tourist can stand the temperatures of Kingswood if they are used to a thing that is often absent here, a foreign concept. I think they call it the sun.

A shiver runs through me as we reach the school gates of Redbrooke high school. Redbrooke is the only high school in Kingswood and so like it or not, I am forced to attend it. Never been? Well, let me save you the tour. Redbrooke is home to some of the dumbest blondes and the lowest exam results in the UK, with most of the pupils being in detention at Lunchtimes, it has one of the cleanest cafeterias of all time! As you can probably tell, I'm very proud.

As soon as I am through the gates, my name is squealed in the most aggravating, high pitched shrieks you will ever hear, it's Sierra and Brianna. Huh, just as I was talking about blonde bimbos. Brianna has to be the most annoying person I've ever met (and this is bearing in mind I've interacted with the Capitol escorts) and so naturally, straight after giving birth to one, Mrs Kane gave birth to a child who was possibly even more annoying than the first (Hi Sierra!) and sent them both to Redbrooke High and so, straight to me. Thank you Mrs Kane, thank you so much.

Just as I was about to plug my earphones in and prepare to endure another six hours of the twins gossiping, a familiar face stepped into my view.

I could've kissed my best friend right there and then, but for the sake of his girlfriend, I restrain myself.

"Savvy!" Louie exclaims, pulling me into a massive bear hug. I've never actually hugged a bear but if being cuddled by a bear consists of lack of air, broken bones and restricted movement, then I've pretty much nailed the description of a hug off Louie Hunter.

"Looby Lou!" I yell straight back at him, because I know for a fact that he hates to be called it, that and the scowl that just appeared on his face.

"That was uncalled for!" He screams at me, sobbing playfully on my shoulder but it's a rubbish act because he's laughing too. A scowl never lasts very long with Louie.

"I'm very, very sorry," I tell him, offering my hand. He sniffles one final time before grabbing my hand. That's how we walk to class, laughing and smiling like children, without a care in the world. And the best I can do is desperately hope that the stirring in my stomach when I'm around him is just the result of a bad breakfast.

**Fairly short, I know but I haven't updated in a while and I wanted to get something out there, the next chapter is longer, I know cause it's already written ;) So 5 reviews and I'll post it!**

**A little confession, I haven't proof read *Runs and hides behind the sofa* I'm sorry, I just wanted to say Chapter 1 was out!**

**What to tell me in your review: What do you think of the characters? Do you ship anyone in particular? Interested in Savannah's past? Wondering how Savannah has got out of Panem?**

**~Dynamite-Dreams xo**


	3. Chapter 2:The Boy With The Bread Is Back

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 2: The Boy with The Bread Is Back**

"**I need my daily fix of Coco Puffs." –Savannah Paris**

**A FREAKING CHAPTER THE DAY I GET BACK FROM HOLIDAY! If that does not make me a God, I don't know what does. What's that guise? You wanna play real or not real? You heard The Boy With The Bread Is Back? REAL GUISE, REAL.**

At the time, I didn't know how much one conversation would change my life. In the cycle of centuries, decades and years a few minutes seem so very insignificant, so very small. Yet it had made more of an impact on my life than the past year in Kingswood had.

Do you ever wake up in a bad mood? Even before the day has even begun you feel foul. Some call it luck, some call it a bad night's sleep but I know better. That little thing is called karma and it comes and kicks my ass every once in a while to remind me that I am not forgiven for the amount of people I have killed, the amount of people I have let die in my place, the amount of people's lives I have torn apart. And to be honest, this doesn't help my mood.

I awoke to the sound of the rain beating down hard on the roof. I opened my eyes, reluctant to get out of the comfort of my bed but dragged myself out anyways. I had slept fitfully. Well, when I say '_slept' _…I was probably awake more than I was asleep. But that doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?

I glanced out of the window. I was right about the rain. It was falling heavily from the pitch black clouds and showed no signs of letting up in the foreseeable future, perhaps even not in the far future. Whoever said the planet revolves round the sun and so, believes the shining sphere is always present has something coming because today, there is no sign of life in the sky, and especially no sign of _warmth._ The weather that day, dare I say it—seemed worse than usual in Kingswood, which means, whichever way you weigh it—it is not habitable for any living being. So naturally, it was a school day.

I threw my clothes over my head as quickly as I could. Trying to keep the torturous seconds my skin was exposed to the icy air at a minimum. Despite my efforts, I was shivering by the time I was ready for school.

I scowled in resentment at the evil contraption that roused me this morning, (A.K.A My alarm clock) to find myself, surprisingly, late. Of course, what startled me was not the fact that I was late, but more the fact that Alec had not yet shouted at me.

"Sav!" A familiar voice called. Ah, right on cue. But what was off schedule was his next comment, "There's somebody here for you!" It was probably Louie or the twins. Ugh, the _twins_.

"Who is it?" I yelled back. Best to find out who it is. If it _is _the twins, I'm probably best faking a cold than walking to school with them. Because trust me, even if it means stuffing down bowls of Esme's chicken soup, I will avoid them, there are worse things than homemade slop. But of course, it's never that simple.

"See for yourself," Was Alec's reply. Was I deluded, or was that bitterness in his voice? But it may just be the lack of sugar in my body. I need my daily fix of Coco puffs.

I grabbed my bag from the side table, and took of down the stairs to meet my elusive, seemingly unwanted guest.

If there was a list of who I would have least wanted to see at the moment, he would not be on it. However, if there was a list of people I never expected to see, he would be top. And so, upon seeing him, the first thing I felt was confusion, the unexpectedness of his visit threw me off balance. It was the call I never anticipated.

Unluckily for him, my next reaction was anger.

"What are you doing here?" I spat at him. He flinched back like I'd hit him. We had once known each other; I might go as far to call him a friend. And I'm not one to jump hastily into friendship's open arms. They have dropped me way too many times.

"Hello to you too," He shot back, sarcasm colouring his tone.

He recovered then. He got past the Tracker Jacker venom and lived his life. If I hadn't been so confused and completely irritated at that moment, I may have patted him on the back. I felt like I needed to say well done, and like give him a sticker or something. Then again, do you reckon 18 is too old for a sticker? I personally never outgrow them.

"She just didn't expect to see you," Esme told him defensively. Peeta cocked his head to the side, a confused expression momentarily taking over his face as he took in my family. But it was only for a second, because as soon as I blinked he had slipped back into his usual easy grin.

"I _am _sorry, Mrs Paris," Peeta said sincerely, "I didn't mean to be rude." He offered her another smile, which Esme being Esme, returned. Ugh, it is _so _hard to keep up a good argument these days.

"It's fine, really Peeta," Esme said, if there's one thing Esme responds to, it's an apology. The woman just doesn't like to be the baddy in these situations. She looked extremely touched by Peeta's heartfelt apology. I wanted to puke.

"Would you like some cake, Peeta?" Esme asked politely and if all my energy hadn't been charged towards whatever Peeta was going to say, I may have laughed. Because the irony was just incredible. Peeta Mellark, the best baker in Panem is offered cake by my Foster Mom. For some reason, with everything that was going on, I found this hilarious. I caught Peeta's eye and we shared a smile before I remembered I was in a mood with him, and I turned away abruptly.

"Why Mrs Paris, you read my mind!"

Within 5 minutes we were all sat with a piece of Esme's carrot cake. All finding it disgusting. All not heartless enough to tell her.

"So, how are you?" Peeta asked me, munching away dutifully at Esme's cardboard cake. I sighed at his attempt to kick off conversation. He may be the rebellion's heart of persuasion but his idle chit-chat was just irritating.

"Oh, just cut to it, Peeta!"

"What?" He asked me; genuinely confused as to why I'd ended the meaningless pleasantries he'd been prepared to exchange with me.

"Well, I'm guessing you're hardly here on a social visit," His sighed sadly at my expression. Which of course just meant that he was defiantly _not _here to say hello and made the fact that he was here on something much worse more and more coherent.

"She's not going anywhere." Alec suddenly piped up and until he did I had completely forgotten the presence of my family. Esme would probably never forgive me for my display of horrific manners.

"With all due respect, Mr Paris, this isn't up to you." Peeta replied. Alec had removed himself from his protective position in front of me and was squared up to Peeta now. And even though Peeta was as trained in the games as I was, Alec's stature made Peeta seem small and weak in comparison. But even with Alec's physical advantage, the thought of him and Peeta engaging in any kind of battle was almost comical. With Peeta's experience in fighting and skill with a sword, Alec seemed pathetic. It was twice Hunger Games tribute versus the football captain of Redbrooke High School. I was pretty sure whose favour the odds were in.

"Alec," I placed my hand on his tense arm, he seemed ready to strike at any moment. "Don't," He looked at me long and hard. And I suddenly realised Alec was much more like family than I had ever thought. As I spoke, Alec's arm muscles relaxed and he took a step back from Peeta. But his fists never unfurled themselves.

"We need your help." He told me. I stood there for a moment, just looking at him. He hadn't changed much. His blonde hair was the same just slightly longer than before and his eyes looked normal. No more nutty venom attacks. He was still fairly tall and muscly; in fact it looked as if he'd had even more training since I last saw him. And if Peeta felt the need to train, then something was coming. After all, Katniss and he had stepped away from that life, I hardly think they'd voluntarily choose to re-live it. There were enough re-runs of the Hunger Games to keep that alive. Enough memories.

"Define help." Was my reply.

"Come back to District 13 with me." The bomb dropped quickly. I could almost feel the power of it blowing through the walls of the living room, blasting the room to smithereens and burning my happiness with it. Any chances I had at living a normal life were now over.

But I was more afraid of the reason, it was obviously going to happen, I would have to know the cause. So, I asked the inevitable question.

"Why?" His face dropped, the change in the room was noticeable, the congregation fell silent, waiting with bated breath for his answer.

Even before he said it, I knew what his reply would be, which makes me wonder why on earth I was filled with so much dread when he said them. The words that would change my life forever.

"The Capitol are back. And we need Aven Laurel."

**There it is guise. I've laid it down on the table. It's there. Kay, now I need to know, what you think on:**

** the carrots is Aven Laurel?**

** you think Aven Laurel is a nice name?**

** cool is it that I am counting down in letters?**

** do you think is happening next?**

**Also, big thanks to Layne Muffins, Squintz, Team Shadow and Blazing Amethyst who always review, it means a lot!**

**Oh and I just wanted to, in case you are bored and need more stories to check out, I thought I'd recommend a few…**

** 100****th**** Hunger Games By Blazing Amethyst**

**b.125****th**** Hunger Games By Team Shadow**

**c.30****th**** hunger Games By Team Shadow**

**d.73****rd**** Hunger Games By Team Shadow**

** A Careers Eyes: Glimmer's Story By Squintz**

**Also! Omgd, I'm still crying cause of The Lucky One with Zac Efron! Anyone else seen it? It's like my favourite movie of all time now! CHILL GUISE MINUS THE HUNGER GAMES!**

**Review?**

**~DynamiteDreams xo**


	4. Chapter 3: The Note

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 3: The Note**

**Hey guys, here's the next update. I really had trouble writing this one and I'm not as happy with it as I could be, but hey-ho. I actually want to get Chapter 4 out a.s.a.p so I may only leave you with this for a few days, possibly a few hours! So, get reviewing! This chapter's a little more intense…**

***Louie's POV***

I smiled lightly as the heat of the sun shone onto my skin. Yes, that's right I said _heat._ As in _warmth._ As in, it was over twenty degrees in _Kingswood_. Any weather reporter would have been shocked.

Everybody was going crazy, throwing parties, skipping school, wearing the shortest shorts possible and I really don't blame them. Because let's face it. We averagely get this kind of weather once a year and Kingswood doesn't do anything half-assed.

That's why I was making my way to Starbucks, its Talia's favourite and I thought I might as well drop in and buy her a drink. I should get an award. But after minutes of contemplating what I would be awarded for, the best I could come up with was '_Best coffee buyer' _and since the title was pretty lame, I decided to drop it. There's always the next Grammys.

But I guess I _may _have misguided you slightly regarding the real reason I was buying Talia coffee. I think she's a mood with me. She hadn't answered any of my calls, texts or even one of the million voice mails I must have left her, which was odd for her, we were normally in contact 24/7. I'd been wondering all day what I'd done, and suddenly everything bad I'd ever done in my life was coming to the forefront of my mind. Like when I decided to give my little sister's doll a tiny makeover and ended up breaking the head off. Sure, I was eight at the time but that's no excuse. _Geez, Lou _I thought to myself, _she's not going to break up with you because you beheaded a Barbie._

And as much as the thought was nice, I wasn't taking any chances. My train of thought (Though by the direction it had taken it was more like an airplane of thought,) was ended by the shrill ring of 'Who let the dogs out?' Sure, I got some funny looks but hey, it's a classic.

"Hey Talia!" I grinned into the phone as some Chihuahua shot me a dirty look. Huh. Guess he didn't like the ringtone.

"No dufus, it's Savannah!" The voice on the other end replied. I could almost see her rolling her eyes at me, even though she was miles away. She sounded weird. Guess she had flu or something.

"Well, how was I supposed to know?!" I countered, but of course, just to help me get over the sting of rejection I was already feeling over Talia, she has to reply with one of her smart-ass comments,

"Um, I don't know, maybe a little thing called caller ID?" She got me. This girl was hard to have an argument with, trust me I've had my share. And if you value your self-esteem and your reputation you will not try and send a witty comment back.

She had me on the spot so, being the naturally charismatic guy I am, my clever, calm and collected reply was, "Whatever." I hear her musical giggle on the other end and I know, really, that I have won. I made her smile. That was the real challenge when she was in moods like this. I normally steered clear of her when she was angry because she was a volcano about to erupt, Savannah style. Yeah, _sure_ she had the last word, _sure_ she had the last laugh but I still won. In my head anyway.

"We need to talk," She stated simply. I said earlier that I avoided her when she was angry but this…it didn't seem like rage. It was filled with more resentment and bitterness I had ever heard in her voice_._ My brain recognized the tone as _resentment. _And to be honest, with Savannah's sometimes malicious tongue, I really hoped she didn't resent me.

"Are you still there?" She questioned. The silence had been noticeable to her. I really hadn't realised, my thoughts volume were enough to keep me occupied.

"Yeah, I'm still here," I tell her. "But I'm meeting Talia," Not _entirely_ true, but not entirely false either. Talia would _probably _ring me back.

"So?" Her voice rings through my phone speaker.

"What do you mean, 'so'?" But my tone surprises me. Because my voice is angry and I'm never angry. Anyone will tell you, ask about Louie Hunter anywhere and you'll get words like funny, crazy, friendly, easy-going but you will not get uptight, nor aggressive, nor violent, because that's not who I am. I'm Louie Hunter, everybody's best friend, the class clown, Kingswood's resident nutter. But a different Louie Hunter must be taking my place right now because I'm not even annoyed, I'm seething.

"_So,"_ Savannah says with such exaggeration that I feel stupid for not suggesting it, "Cancel on her."

"_So,_" I reply, imitating her maliciously, "Either find a time that fits both of us or hang up."

Silence. I begin to think she really has cut me off when I hear her desperate voice on the other end of the line,

"Please," She begs. And that's when I notice it. She doesn't have a cold, no not at all. Her voice is hoarse but not from coughing. From _crying._

But I don't care because it couldn't be that important if she couldn't be bothered to arrange a time that suited both of us.

"I can't, can we just meet up afterwards?" I asked.

"No." She replied flatly. "I can't Lou," She sighed sadly on the other line. I could hear somebody else too, a _male _voice and suddenly I was overcome with anger, but no it wasn't anger. It was a feeling of want, of _jealousy._ I pushed the feeling away with all my might, I was not _jealous _of whoever this guy was with Savannah.

"Well I guess we aren't meeting up then." I replied scathingly.

"Lou-"She began to protest as I cut her off, ending her pleas with the push of a button.

I looked up to find a seat. And suddenly, Savannah didn't matter. Because sitting right in front of me was Talia. But not just Talia. _Him _and Talia. Whoever _he_was tangled in her arms, her lips on his passionately fusing together, the passion I thought she had only for me.

I felt as though my heart was being pulled out of my chest, Talia's tiny fingers firmly gripping it. I felt literally dead, like someone was cutting me from the inside out. You'd think I'd learn, honestly you would, _I _thought I would. But some greater force with way too much time on their hands seemed to be intent on messing up my love life; it was like life's kick in the face. He seemed to enjoy kicking me, though. I tried to count the amount of times I'd ended up hurt in a relationship and I quickly lost the number I was on; I couldn't tally up that far.

The phrase 'A broken-heart' is so understated; many people who have been spared of it call it metaphorical, like your heart isn't _actually _ripped out. Take it from me, it might as well of been. Talia looks up at the boy, smiling with tenderness at him, the tenderness I thought she had only for me. Her eyes grow wide when she spots me, silently spectating and she knows it's over between us. It's not like the policeman could just excuse the robber of his crimes and send him on his way.

I backed hastily out of the shop, breaking into a sprint. I didn't know where I was running to not until my hand planted a firm knock on Savannah's door. There was no answer. I knocked again; Alec's blonde hair bobbed into my view, tears swimming in his eyes. My brain instantly recoiled from the sight; the two things just didn't go together. Seeing Alec crying was like putting ketchup on your cornflakes, it just didn't happen. I felt like bolting there and then, something enough to make Alec Paris cry. _The _Alec Paris. I'm screwed.

"What happened?" I choked out, but I shouldn't have asked, I really didn't want the answer he gave me,

"She's gone, mate." I'd thought that was heart-break earlier then this must be heart-smash, like life was continually kicking me in the face. I'd never known three words could tear me apart so much.

"Where?" I managed to croak, blinking back the tears that threatened to escape.

"A long, long way away," he paused, "She asked me to give you this, because you couldn't come over earlier." _Earlier. _I would have been able to stop her going wherever she's gone and by the look on her brother's face, a place she's never returning from. He handed me a pristine white envelope with the word 'Curly' written perfectly on the front. I nodded at her brother; he offered me a weak smile,

"Louie, if you ever need an, erm," he paused, searching for the right word, "an _explanation" _he decided, "we're here, okay?" I nodded again, giving him no reply.

Bidding me farewell, he shut the door on me and I was left in the rain that had begun to pour down, although it could just have been my tears, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

I raced home and into my room, locking the door behind me. Breathing ragged, broken-hearted and lonely. I looked down at the letter in my shaking hand, and opened it.

_Louie, _it read.

_When you read this I'll be halfway across the world, probably engaged in a very bloody battle and on the verge of death, but don't let that get you down. Great opening, I know._

_And to think just a little while ago we'd been laughing and joking, totally unaware of what the future might hold for me. But I kept you in the dark Lou, I didn't want you know what I had done, I had managed to walk away from my past, I didn't want to revisit it or even try and remember it. But I should know, Karma comes to kick you at the worst times._

_I never wanted to tell you and I guess if this had never happened, I never would have. I mean who would want to admit they're a killer? Whoops. Guess I just ruined the surprise, there's a spoiler for you._

_I didn't want to kill anybody, not really but when you're stuffed in an arena with 23 other tributes all desperate to be the last one standing, you'd be surprised how lenient your conscience can be. The Capitol began the Hunger Games merely to prove what we already knew; that we were their servants, called on by a simple command. They wanted us to suffer, and so we did._

_You can vow before you go in that you will never kill another person, but it's a game; A game where emotions have no place. So I killed and I killed and I killed and then I came out victor. But I didn't really win, The Capitol did. The Capitol and the 23 lives they ended in the process, I didn't realise that until afterwards, when my humanity actually returned._

_Then everything changed and it took just one girl. It took victor with strength, courage, wisdom and most importantly, heart. It took light. Someone to show the Districts a way out of the hell The Capitol had constructed. She was the spark, a flame in the darkness. She was Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, the girl on fire._

_She created an army, not alone of course, The Capitol had never once thought about how much the people's hatred towards them could end them. They found it amusing but quite frankly, who's laughing now? All it took was an idea. An idea to rouse those feelings inside of people and start making something out of it, something to use against The Capitol._

_And so a rebellion was forming. Little by little, bit by bit, the fire was catching. Only The Capitol seemed to think they could control it, bless them. Apparently no one had ever told them never to play with fire._

_I fought in the centre of the inferno, burning The Capitol down. Little by little, bit by bit. But I was losing myself. I was becoming the person I had never wanted to be; a cold-hearted, ruthless little killer. You may say it doesn't matter, some did. I was told The Capitol deserved it. But a life is a life no matter how terrible that life may be. The Capitol had won again, succeeding to turn good people into the worst, into people like them. I hated myself. I couldn't bear to stare at my reflection in the mirror anymore, not knowing the amount of people that reflection had killed._

_I don't remember smiling throughout those months, I felt awed when I heard someone laugh. The rebellion had caught fire, burning brightly, the mad flames consuming everything; it's hard to find the pleasure in being burnt. Happiness was a foreign concept to me…until I met you._

_It's unusual now that my smile is not present and I have you to thank for that. Your cheesy jokes, cheeky attitude, your playful grin…The list is endless Lou, you have no idea how much you helped me. Every moment, every hour, every day I shared with you was like a step forward. A step towards the old Savannah, a step towards happiness._

_Maybe that's why I'm crying as I write this letter, I'm so selfish. I don't want to let you go, to never see you again but you'll be better off without me. I don't want to drag you into a world that I don't even want to be a part of myself. I'm sorry I had to go this way, without a real goodbye, just a letter of explanation. But I had to leave quietly you see, unnoticeably. The last thing we want is people asking questions, curious as to where little Savannah has gone. Four simple words will make you understand; The Capitol Is Back._

_They're back and they mean business which in simple terms translates, they mean to kill and kill many. So that's where I am. Fighting to keep the freedom I have earned._

_So I figured I'd write this letter, since I'm never coming back. Death is an inevitable price for another's freedom, a big price, but a price that will be paid all the same. Now's a good a time as any right? Here goes, I love you Louie Hunter and I always have, always will, there I said it. Now I've said it, I want you to forget it. I want you to forget me and forget the memories we've shared, I want you to push me out of your life completely._

_I want you to move on with your life. I want you to find a girl as equally as beautiful as you, one who will treat you the way you treated me. I always wanted to be yours; although you know you don't deserve someone, you fall for them all the same; your heart never tends to listen to your brain. Most of all, I want you to be happy and live a good life, because I have never met anyone that deserves It more than you._

_Love Always,_

_Savannah_

**I am aware this chapter is **_**extremely**_**long but I had to get it in. The next few chapters are a lot more interesting because I've already written them! I don't want to give out too much but you may be seeing a few more familiar faces…**

**On other topics, check out my new story, centered around Haymitch! And a big thank you to Team Shadow for being beta for this chapter :D (You're welcome! :D)**

**Review?**

**~Dynamite-Dreams x**

.


	5. Chapter 4: The Districts

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 4: The Districts**

I don't recommend boarding a hovercraft if you suffer from vertigo, aerophobia or even slight headaches whilst flying because there are no life jackets to use if something goes wrong. If it crashes, you go down with it. As you may have guessed, I'm not keen on hovercrafts.

Thankfully, the ride was short, landing in District 13 just one hour after departure. I felt a sense of easiness returning to familiar territory, to feel stable ground beneath my feet. I stepped out of the craft quickly and hurried down the landing stage.

To say District 13 had changed would be an understatement.

The healthy green grass glowed like emeralds in the sun, setting the gardens alight with colour. They had built a habitable town above ground now and the architecture was magnificent, the town-centre particularly eye-catching. Grey cobblestones were arranged into a perfect circle, surrounded by countless white villas. Clear blue water rushed out of the beautiful fountain in the middle. A smile twitched at my lips as I noticed who the statue was of.

The stone Katniss stood proud on the podium, a brave expression plastered on her face. Her trademark weapon—the bow—was angled ready to shoot. Underneath in perfectly engraved calligraphy her most famous words were written, '_If we burn, you burn with us.'_

As Peeta led me on, everywhere I turned there was transcendent beauty, every garden, monument and building radiated perfection. As we twisted and turned through the city, new architecture greeted my eyes, setting my mind alight with inspiration. There were many statues dotted all over the town either remembering great soldiers or freeze frames of our Capitol victory.

I found it hard to look at the monuments honouring our greatest soldiers, knowing I would recognise every one of their hard, marble faces. I knelt in front of every statue, paying my belated respects to the long gone. And as each one passed I felt the charm of the place decrease, slowly turning the bright, exciting colours to black and white.

As we meandered through centre after centre and I couldn't help but be impressed by how much the rebels had achieved since our great victory. I wondered how they'd done it. Every part was so different, had a unique feature that set it apart from the rest. Passing through the fourth square, I could see a gentle sea, lapping invitingly in the distance. In the eighth, humongous trees provided a shady green canopy for the workers that were chopping away at the trees underneath. But a part of it made me angry. It was the Districts all over again.

By the time we reached the quaint little orchard village I had given the different sections numbers, so I knew how far I had come. I counted this as eleventh, but by far the prettiest. A large market covered the majority of the space and people bustled about their business in the warm sunshine. The smell of oranges and apples hung heavily in the air reminding me painfully of life before the rebellion.

I walked behind Peeta, who had seemed to have slowed in this town. Maybe his feet were tired, or maybe he liked the village as much as me. Whatever the reason, he had reduced his speed to half of the original.

I was watching Peeta's paces so suspiciously, I barely noticed the hush that had fallen over the people in the square.

I looked up. The people were no longer rushing around, all business had suddenly ceased. The civilians curious eyes roamed back and forth between the statue in the middle and my face. They seemed to revolve around it, as if the marble had its own personal gravity force. And then one by one, the entire population fell to its knees.

My eyes snapped up to the main attraction. The model was of a young girl in her teens. Blond hair whipped wildly around her face, her blue eyes analysing the invisible threat. And with her hard set glare of determination and the two daggers clutched in her hands I guessed the odds were not in her foes favour.

The resemblance was striking.

How could I not recognise the girl? After all, I had seen her in the mirror just this morning. The girl they had fell to their knees for, the hero they worshipped was…_me._

I felt my mouth go dry. Of course, being the amazing heroine that I apparently was, I said the most amazing Savannah Paris thing ever. "I think you've got the wrong person."

That did it. _Well done Savannah, _I thought sarcastically. But no shouts or cries came up from the crowd. If anything, they looked up at me with even more adoration than before.

"District 11!" Peeta sounded, breaking the silence like a glass. "Your patron has arrived," with that the whole congregation burst into applause. Cheers flew around the crowd like paper aeroplanes. Peeta shot me a warm smile and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you!" I beamed at the people, all immediately hushing as I spoke. A tiny girl in the crowd suddenly piqued up,

"Is that her Mama? Is that her from the statue?!" A rumble of laughter rolled around the crowd and the woman who was clearly the girl's Mother pulled her back. Cheeks flaming, muttering embarrassed apologies under her breath. I laughed briefly before making my way through the crowd to the girl. I squatted down next to her,

"What's your name?" I asked the tiny brunette, who was pushing away from her Mother viciously to talk to me. Her Mother finally gave up and let her go. Can't really blank a girl with a statue.

"Bryony," She replied. A very traditional District 11 name.

"That's a beautiful name," I tell her sincerely, "Bryony, do you know what that says up there?" I asked her, motioning to the looming marble structure above us.

"We were the flame they couldn't control. They threatened to quench us but you can't play with fire without getting burnt." Bryony recited without even glancing at the statue. Apparently, that was learnt here. Which honestly freaked me out a little.

"Those words have never been truer," I said as Bryony skipped off to her Mother, jumping into her arms, "The Capitol clearly haven't learnt," I continued, turning my body so I could see the whole gathering, "But they will this time, that will be made sure of. We will not crumble under pressure! We will make this victory even bigger to ensure that they know we will not be defeated, that we will not back down!" The crowd roared in approval, "They don't understand, we are a flame, a burning spark that lights up the way. We are fire. And do you know what fire has always been best at?" I asked, pausing for a moment as the silence smothered the air, "Destroying anything that gets in its way!" The crowd had gone crazy, drunk on my morale boosting words.

We left the crowd like that. Clapping and stamping excitedly, giddily. _Stupidly _was a word I almost added to this list. But I refused to think of them as stupid, not after all this time.

—

Peeta explained the towns as mini Districts, replicas of the old ones. And that the one we had just passed through was District 11. I had a statue there because each District had a patron who, in times of need acted as a leader to the District. They had to keep the District in line in terms of army, supplies and money. So basically, I had a fan club. I was president of something I'd never signed up for.

The scenery quickly changed, becoming more rural. As trees and flowers began to melt away, my surroundings became familiar.

The landscape was sandy and vegetation sparse. It reminded me of something out of an old western movie Alec and I used to watch. _Used_ to, I reminded myself. Past tense, never to happen again.

Peeta and I kept up a companionable silence as we continued on our trek, the trek of which I had no idea of the destination. The walk seemed aimless until I noticed a familiar archway come into view. The spectacular white curve acted as a kind of flag, bookmarking the entrance to the real District 13 that operated underground.

Peeta jumped lithely through the entrance, landing with a light thud on the ground. I raised an eyebrow. Guess he didn't have the grace of an elephant anymore. When I didn't follow suit, Peeta turned to look at me and laughed at my expression.

"Katniss decided it was about time that we could go on secret missions without being heard a mile off," I shrugged, keeping my face straight,

"That's probably because you had the grace of a zoo animal at feeding time," I told him, his face dropped sadly and it was my turn to laugh at his expression, "I'm kidding," I told him. Smirking as his face slipped back into his easy grin.

Inside endless corridors stretched out in front of me, causing a nasty sense of claustrophobia to creep up on me.

"Can you remember the way?" Peeta asked, cocking his head to the side. A playful grin shaped his lips. A challenge.

"Please! I could sprint it, in my sleep, upside down." I lied smoothly. Peeta rolled his eyes at me, grin growing even larger as he said,

"Lead the way then!" That got me off my high horse. My eyes raked the options I had, searching for any sign of familiarity. Nothing. That's the infamous Savannah Paris memory. I just decided to go ahead and pick. I wouldn't call it guessing as much, deductive reasoning sounds kinder and way smarter doesn't it?

I dropped into a crouching position to examine the floor more closely. From there, the choice was obvious really. The sandy floor hid the indents from shoes fairly well, however it was plain the entrances to the fourth and fifth corridors were more worn than the others due to the amount of people that travelled down them.

I rose from the ground, meeting a very amused Peeta, "Have a nice rest?" he asked me.

"Lovely," I replied sweetly. I took a hesitant step towards the fifth corridor, contemplating which route to take.

"Of course, I could just show you the way Sav! It would just mean, that I'm better than you,"

"Better than me Mellark, really?" I scoffed. He just shrugged and smiled,

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Haven't you got some cakes to frost or something?" His mouth dropped into and 'O' shape and I horrified expression covered his face,

"How dare you insult the bakery?!" An outraged expression held his features in place.

"I'm sorry Peeta!" I grinned as he relaxed, "I _loaf_ you, I promise!"

"Tsk, tsk! Cheeky girl!" He scolded me, I laughed quietly, "Anyway, are you choosing the corridor or are you chickening out?"

"Pushy!" I exclaimed. I turned to the corridors. I really didn't know which one it was. Then, I had an idea.

I cocked my head to the side, "Was that Katniss?" I questioned. Letting confusion spill onto my face. Instantly, his head turned to the fourth corridor. I grinned, I had my route. Peeta scowled at me, clearly upset I'd messed up his game.

"My, my Mellark!" I exclaimed, "Your skills are not what they used to be!" With that I flaunted down the corridor without a second glance, leaving Peeta shaking his head disbelievingly.

**OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT! I'M NOT DEAD! I know you were all preparing my funeral and stuff but look out suckers, I'm back! Yeah that's it, feel lucky. It's been what, a month? Whoops. Liz is sorry. Liz had lots of homework. Then Liz had lots of detentions. Then Liz had lots of Netball matches. Then Liz had track and swimming races. Now Liz needs to stop talking in third person. Ahem. Anyhoo, as ever 5 reviews equals a new chapter so get reviewing or I won't update 'cause I'm evil XD**

**Quick thanks to Zoe (Team Shadow) who was beta for this chapter, she knows I love her.**

**My SYOT has just been deleted but I will hopefully re-upload it soon and show those idiots that I don't care what they think!**

**Until the next chapter, thanks for reading!**

**~Dynamite-Dreams xo**


	6. Chapter 5: The Fight

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 5: The Fight**

Quiet mutterings and distant footfalls told me Peeta had followed me down the corridor. My feet had taken this path so many times that they moved without Peeta's guidance. I felt a sense of relief as my feet scuffed the sandy walls of the tunnel. This was the first time I had been alone since Peeta knocked on my door this morning. It felt good to be able to breathe again and to let emotion show without knowing I'd be judged for it. Because let's face it, I was scared. No point in denying it. I wasn't strong and brave like Katniss, I wasn't calm and collected like Peeta, nor was I fearless and bold like Johanna. I was sixteen and in the midst of a war that I didn't want to fight.

_'Congratulations Aven Laurel of District 11, you are the 73__rd__ Hunger Games victor!' _Claudius Templesmith's chilling voice boomed in my mind. _Yeah, _I thought bitterly, thanks for the reminder. '_It's what you wanted, isn't it?' _He continued, _'To bring pride to your District?' _That _had_ been what I wanted. I _had_ wanted to make my family proud, to prove to not only them but everybody watching that I _could _do it. And I did. _'Look where you are now, Aven. Your family are dead, your District partner is dead, your mentor is dead. Who's left to be proud of you? What did you achieve in the arena except kill a bunch of innocent children?'_

"Stop it! Shut up, shut up!" I shrieked, clutching my hands over my ears to drown out his voice. _'Murderer, murderer, murderer!' _He chanted accusingly, voices joining his. Hot tears slid down my face furiously. Because he's right. I _am _a murderer. I killed people, I hurt people, I-I-

"Aven!" Peeta is suddenly next to me, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you okay?" He questions worriedly. I nod soundlessly and he helps me up. Somewhere during my episode, my knees had found their way onto the floor.

I pushed my tears off my face thoroughly to make sure all remainders of them were gone from my face and allowed Peeta to help me up. But I didn't forget Claudius' words. I don't think I ever will.

I soon found myself in new territory. I had to blink several times before my eyes adjusted to the harsh shine of the lights above. The circular room was full of soldiers dressed for combat, all standing stony faced in their tightly packed rigid formation. People without uniform were dotted around in the crowd and looked decidedly more comfortable with the setup. I could just make out two figures at the front, and they seemed to be arguing.

"No, Katniss!" I knew that voice. Figures, you could always hear her before you could see her. "I will not work with her! What do you think I am a miracle worker?!" She said with disgust, "She's pathetic, overrated little brat!" Katniss snorted with laughter at her seething expression.

"Yeah I'm sure she is." I can almost see her rolling her eyes from here. "But do you know what else she is?" She asked, cutting off the soldier that stood in front of her, "Right behind you."

My eyes turned hard as the girl spun around to face me, her flame of red hair twisting with her. I once made a joke to Katniss at the start of the rebellion that by the look of Cerese's hair, the fire was_literally _catching. Remembering this now, a smirk played on my lips.

"Aven Laurel." Cerese sneered at me, walking up to me, her green eyes boring into mine. _Aven, _people keep saying that today. Then again, what's the point in using an alias when I'm back at the reason I created it?

"Cerese- wait, what was your last name again?" I asked curiously. A furious expression smothered her features as I began to stride towards her.

"Cerese Aspen," She snarled back at me. We were squared up now, shoulders almost touching. I clicked my fingers in fake realisation,

"That's the one!" I grinned slyly at her. I turned to look at Katniss, "Oh and I _am _sorry to interrupt!" I exclaimed cheerily at her, she murmured something along the lines of, "That's okay," as I spun round to face Cerese.

"But please, do feel free to say whatever I interrupted to my face." The congregation didn't dare to blink in case they missed something. Everybody's eyes in the room were undoubtedly trained on our conversation.

"I was just telling Katniss how to run an army," She shrugged. I offered her a questioning look, "I mean, what _is _the point of having worthless brats on the front line?" She asked, looking pointedly at me.

"I totally agree." I say, "Idiots should not be allowed to fight." Confusion spilled over her features. I know she was implying I was stupid, but I'd just thrown it right back in her face. "Note to self: Make sure Katniss keeps Cerese away from the fighting." The effects of my words were immediate. Her eyebrows scrunched in anger and her lips curled back into a cruel snarl.

"You call me worthless?" She shrieked at me, "Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

"I must be of some importance for Paylor to put _my_ statue in District 11 rather than yours." I shot back. Her expression turned venomous, and I knew I had hit just the right spot. We had both played big parts in the rebellion. Yet it was my stone self that stood proudly in District 13's re-build of District 11. "Because really," I continued, a calm expression on my face, "-you have to wonder Cerese, if I'm worthless, then what are _you_?"

"Of a lot more help than you Aven," It was evident I had knocked her off balance. Because although her tone was as poisonous as ever, her retort was poor and her words wobbly,

"Yes! Evidently, with Katniss laughing at you and Paylor 'forgetting' to give you a statue," I said, sarcasm marring my tone effectively.

"Say anymore and I'll put you with the rest of your useless family Aven," She said coming up to my ear before whispering loudly so everybody in the room could hear, "In the grave."

My answer was simple. A full force punch in the face transformed her perfect nose into a crooked zigzag. Anger was rising inside of me, washing out all of my other emotions and rendering them useless, including my restraint.

I slammed my foot into her stomach before she got a chance to recover. She flew across the room into the first line of soldiers whom backed up hastily at her sudden appearance. I strode towards Cerese, Peeta and Katniss hot on my heels but they hovered like stagehands, completely aware of what I was capable.

I bent down next to Cerese,

"You're pathetic!" She croaked out, I regarded her scornfully,

"Says the girl that's pinned on the floor!" I countered, "You really need to learn to keep your opinions to yourself in these positions," I advised her.

"Why?" She asked me, smirking, "Two can play this game." With that she launched herself on top of me clawing at my face with her perfectly manicured nails. Off my right I heard Katniss scream, "Go and get Aston!" The mention of him distracted me from the fight long enough for Cerese to pull something out of her belt.

I guess things got serious when I realised it was a knife.

My instant play became defence. I could not let that blade touch me. Years of fighting for my life and battling starvation kept me alive. Never doubt an angry girl's instincts. I deflected the blade time and time again, each time getting no closer to victory, but knowing I could do little else with such a big disadvantage. Cerese grunted with frustration every time I blocked one of her deadly strikes.

She was an excellent soldier, one of the best. I couldn't deny her that. I vaguely heard a shout from behind me,

"She's armed!" Oh well thanks. Like so much, you know I really wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for that heads up.

But I couldn't focus on that right now. I was growing tired. I was out of practise and it was beginning to show. If I didn't pull some offence fighting out of the bag she would kill me. Sensing my fatigue, Cerese's hits became stronger and more consistent. It had to be now.

I kicked Cerese hard in the stomach, sending her sprawling across the room. A look of shock crossed her face as she crumpled into the floor. I fiercely pulled the knife out of her hand, securing it in my own. I had her pinned now. All it would take is one stab to the heart-

"Sure that's a smart move Ave?" A familiar voice called across the room. I froze in surprise. Damn, I had missed that voice so much. Keeping Cerese securely locked under me, I turned to the sound of his voice. I'd missed him. His sparkling brown eyes, his mop of brown hair and his smile. I'd missed everything about him and I'd only realised it now,

"You think it's a smart idea to let her live?" I questioned in disbelief, his cherry red lips pulled into a smile. "Well, yeah, unless you want to be sentenced to death for killing her," he laughed.

"Eh," I shrugged, "I'd die a happy girl," He laughed again. His intent was clear, he would disarm me. But he had been a friend in a time of need. I considered him my brother, though no blood bonded us. It's not like I was going to hurt him.

"Long time no see, eh?" He grinned at me. I smiled back at him and nodded. Cerese began to squirm underneath me, using newfound strength to push against my grip. But my hold was like steel, she screamed under my hand that was clamped strongly over her mouth. I reluctantly turned away from Aston.

"Will you shut up?! I'm trying to have a conversation here!" I yelled at her and she rolled her eyes. You could almost feel the tension decreasing. Sighs were let out, positions relaxed and eyes safe to blink. "Sorry about her!" I grinned at Aston, my expression growing serious. "She just doesn't know when to shut up." I let the knife dance across her face, deciding on the most effective way of killing her. Aston and Peeta exchanged nervous glances, unsure of whether I was going to fly into a rage again. Aston took more slow steps towards me before crouching down by my side.

"Give it to me Ave," He whispered softly, pointing at the knife I still had poised behind my head. Huh. I guess I understand those worried glances now.

There were no traces of a smile on his face anymore, just a solemn expression and serious eyes. I glanced down at Avery who had gone quiet, anxiously watching our conversation like a tennis match knowing it decided her fate.

Then, I handed Aston the knife. Aston grinned at me before passing it to Katniss, whom had appeared behind him.

"Good choice sweetheart," A familiar voice came from behind me. When I need the opinion of Haymitch Abernathy I'll ask for it. But now is not the time.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied, before standing up and kicking Cerese in the gut for good measure. I heard her groans behind me as I stalked from the room, feeling a few hundred of pairs of eyes watch me go.

**YAY! LIZ IS BACK! Feel free to have a party. Well. I haven't updated this in a while. Sorry guise. Liz has been busy XD My friends from Liverpool are coming over tomorrow, so I figured '****_Hey Liz, since you're in SUCH a good mood, why not update Memories Never Fade for your loving readers to review?' _****And well, I listened to the voice and here we have chapter five. Thank the voices in my head, children.**

**I want to thank Team Shadow over there for being an amazing beta, full of amazingness XD And a thank you to all who reviewed last chapter XD**

**SO! Exciting times, huh? I've gone into a bit more depth about Savannah/Aven's past and we have a new character, say hello to Cerese. She's a little bitch isn't she? Yep. Methinks so too. Anywhoodles, this A/N is way too long. So adieu readers XD**

**Review?**

**~Dynamite-Dreams xo**


	7. Chapter 6: A Sweet Eulogy

**Memories Never Fade**

**Chapter 6: A Sweet Eulogy **

**"I'll admit it was odd, seeing Katniss Everdeen in Tommy Hilfiger was not something I ever expected to happen." –Aven Laurel**

I'd like to say that I had some deep revelation during that fight, that I came to terms with my own mortality, that my whole life flashed before my eyes, and so on.

Honestly? My thoughts were somewhere along the lines of: Arrrggghh!

I'd raised that weapon above my head, ready to plunge it into her heart knowing full well the consequence would be death. And yet I still stood there, poised to kill. What can I say in my defence? Once a killer, always a killer.

My stomach rumbled in protest at the neglect I had given it ever since I arrived in District 13. To shut it up, I trailed down to the breakfast room.

What a stupid mistake.

Eyes followed me wherever I went, tracing my steps as I walked. I didn't make contact with another being the whole journey, it was as if I was barred off and no one should come within 10 metres of me if they valued their safety. And so here I was; the one place I should feel at home; the one place I should fit in, and I was being treated like a freak.

I didn't know how long I would be here. I figured if we won this war and I was still alive, I'd return to Kingswood. If we lost this war, well I didn't think I'd be going anywhere but the cemetery. After making a list of possible outcomes, these two seemed the most likely. Yet, I had this feeling, this horribly bad gut feeling that I would never be returning to Kingswood. That sucked, because my guts were pretty much always spot on.

As I entered the hall, the customary stamp of routine was branded onto my hand in a clump of black ink. Not bothering to read it, I slipped into the hall trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible. I shoved my breakfast down in record time and returned to my room.

Eyelids heavy, I lay down on my bed. I had slept very little last night, and the moments I had spent in slumber were very fitful. And no matter how many times my body told my brain it was time to sleep, it was always ignored.

The good news? I got some sleep. The bad news? I had a nightmare.

_"Now, Aven," Damien tells me in the best mentor voice he can muster, "I want you to go right into the fight and get whatever you want, okay?" I look at him like he's an idiot. _

_"That'll get me killed." Damien waves his hand dismissively,_

_"No it won't. There's a reason I'm playing you off to be mediocre Aven, you know how to fight. It will surprise them that you have any talent at all." Well, gee. Thanks. _

_"It won't surprise them for long!" I exclaim, "Then, they'll kill me." Damien looks at me with a hard expression,_

_"Do as I say kid. I'm your mentor, your only lifeline in these games, I survived them and so will you. If you do what I tell you." I look at him in disbelief. I wait for him to go 'Psych! Get your ass the hell away from those careers!' But he doesn't. He just looks at me, and I just look at him. _

"_10 seconds," the speaker sounds and Damien bends down slowly and looks me in the eye._

_"I'm doing this for the best," he tells me. I look at him in confusion._

_"5 seconds." Damien spins me around until I'm facing the direction of the glass tube. I enter it slowly, my brain still brimming with unanswered questions. _

_"Oh, and Aven?" Just when I don't think I can be addled any further, Damien's voice sounds from behind me. "I'm sorry I could only pick one of you." I look at him in bewilderment, my mind unwilling to process his words. "It had to be him." He looks at me glassily before the final words tumble from his lips "I'll read something nice at your funeral." _

_My mouth drops open in horror as I realise what he means. Betrayal taints my features. All this time I've been fighting to stay alive, he's just been preparing my coffin._

_ Then, my plate begins to rise. My eyes don't seem to want to focus on my surroundings. Not the golden Cornucopia in front of me, not the endless amounts of wasteland around me, not the huge summit in the distance. _

_ My thoughts are wrestling one another. He chose Alistair. Not me. All the advice he gave me, what was that? Fake? I questioned everything now I knew his motives. All this time he had been rooting for my District partner. I could imagine him laughing behind my back. Poor little Aven Laurel, the thirteen year old will surely be a bloodbath. If I hadn't been before, he's certainly assured it._

_ The countdown begins but I'm too flustered to notice it. _Aven, _some small voice whispers, _get your head in the game.

_I try, I really do. But I have 60 seconds to make the decision that will decide my fate. My initial response to the gong would be to sprint to the Cornucopia, my mentor had told me to, after all. But that was before I found out he was trying to kill me. This is messing with my head._

_ 20 seconds. I need to choose. I need a plan or I'm dead for sure. I spot a pack around the back of the Cornucopia, it's obscured from the Careers view but I can see exactly which route I should take. I can grab the pack, and get out within a minute. I've always been fast but with the adrenaline that's pumping through my system, I'll be rapid._

_ This is why when the gong sounds, I do not hesitate to fly from my podium. I'm at the pack within 20 seconds. I snatch it, not bothering to go through the contents, now is not a time to be picky._

_ That's when I feel the hands close around my throat. _

_ I struggle helplessly against my attacker's iron grip but it's no use. I always knew it would be. In hand to hand combat I was bound to lose, I'm not a career, I'm not even a tribute, I'm a kid. And I didn't belong here. _

_ I close my eyes and wait for the end to come. I wait for my ambusher to squeeze enough life out of me to bring my death. _

_ But then I think of my mentor, and how he thought these games would beat me, how he has planned to read at my funeral. Well, I would never give him the chance._

_ I twist myself around to face my opponent. I find myself eye to eye with the girl from three. My heart drops. I'd heard she was joining up with the careers this year and I couldn't help but be impressed by her nine in training, she was lethal with a sword and was one of the favourites to win. I feel my willpower drain away._

_ Until I see her belt. _

_ Every tribute is dressed in the same attire. Everybody wears a white vest top, varying slightly from male to female, matched with some tan coloured combat trousers tucked into black military boots. No one has a belt. But this girl does. It isn't the belt that intrigues me. It's the contents. Sticking out of the third compartment and glinting wildly in the sun is a knife._

_ I'm no physical specimen. I'm small and dainty, not big and dangerous. But I'm smart. And I know how to use a knife._

_ I grab the weapon from her belt. I do not hesitate to plunge it into her stomach. The girl looks at me, then down to her wound in shock and I know what her last thoughts will be 'How did _she _beat _me_?' _

_ But they are not thought for long because after a few seconds, she drops to the ground. Crimson liquid leaks through her shirt as she gutters and chokes, trying desperately to hang on to life. Tears streak down her face as she looks at me with pleading eyes,_

_"I'm sorry." I whisper. Then, I pull the blood coated knife from her chest and leave her to die. _

_ I want to run away as fast as I can, to get away from the act I just committed. But my body doesn't seem to want to cooperate with my brain. So I stand there listlessly as the girl takes her final shaky breaths._

_ The whole battlefield seems to go silent as I look down at the girl's life I just took. Her brown hair is still fluffed up, like she's just walked out of a Capitol salon. Her green eyes stare at me unblinkingly, still holding one desperate message: 'Please.' _

_ "Did you do this?!" I spin around quickly to find the male tribute from three. Great. He looks at me, tears streaming down his face. "DID. YOU. DO. THIS?!" He screams, although I'm pretty sure he knows the answer. I'm holding a knife with her blood on._

_ With a single flick of his wrist, a knife flies towards me. I don't move. Funny thing is, I don't want to. I don't want to live with the guilt of ending her life. So that leaves one option: dying._

_ But apparently, someone else has other ideas._

_My body is thrown out of the knife's line and into the Cornucopia, smacking my head off the glittering metal. _

_ I hear a faint groan as I sit up. My head whips back and forth trying to locate my saviour, or more pressingly, the boy from 3._

_ Nothing. _

_ I stand up warily and make for the backpack still gripped in the dead girl's hand. I stumble over what must be a rock. I glance down to find two eyes looking at me. I stifle a scream._

_ The boy from 3 lies there. And he looks pretty dead. But apparently he's not. He lunges out of the rubble and grabs at me. I sprint as fast as my legs will carry me to find any place with promise of protection._

_ I sneak a glance backwards and I know I'm done. The boy's knife glints in the sunlight as if whizzes towards me. I know this is the end. So I close my eyes and picture home. I picture District 11 in the summer, the rich scent of apples hangs in the air and the mockingjays chirp cheerfully. Then somebody screams._

_ My eyes fly open to see that 3's knife did find a target. Just not the one he intended. In front of me, a boy lies. His brown eyes stare up at me and a small smile plays on his dying lips._

_ Alistair Bennett. The boy I was supposed to hate, the boy that Damien chose, the boy whose life cost mine. _

_ I drop to the ground and take his head in my lap. Blood gushes from his wound, protruding his pristine white vest like a knife. _

_ Tears drip down my face as I stare into his eyes._

_"You idiot." I cry, "You shouldn't have-" He looks at me and smiles._

_"You're so innocent. I didn't think I could bear to see you die." He reaches up and touches my cheek, wiping off the tears._

_"He chose you." I say unthinkingly. His eyebrows crease in confusion, "Damien. And he was right." I tell him, "You're stupid. You could have won this thing, Alistair. You could have gone home." _

_"Just say it," He smiles._

_"Thank you." I whisper and he nods. His breaths are becoming shorter and inconsistent as he takes my hand in his._

_"I want you to go now." He says. "The Careers will be doing sweeps soon and if they find you, they'll kill you." _

_"But Alistair-" I protest, he puts his finger to my lips._

_"No buts. I want to die my own way, Aven." He tells me. I nod wordlessly because nothing can come out. Alistair is going to die. And it's my fault._

_"I'm so sorry." I manage and ne nods. Then, I turn away._

_"Promise me something?" He calls. I twist to face him._

_"Anything," _

_"Don't do anything stupid." I laugh through my tears, of course these would be his final words. "You can win this, Aven. Forget what Damien said, forget what The Capitol think, and prove them all wrong. This isn't about brawn. If it was, District 3 would still be alive, I wouldn't be lying here. It's about smarts and it's about instincts. The element of surprise is key as long as you expect the unexpected, do you understand?" I bob my head quickly, "I want you to go now," He tells me in a level voice, "And I want you to win the Hunger Games." I look him in the eye. _

_"That's impossible," I whisper to him._

_"Nothing's impossible, Aven. Now's the best time to prove it." I look at his face for a moment and then hesitantly, I nod. Who am I to ignore his dying wish? He saved my life and nothing would ever, ever change that._

_"I'm proud to have met you Alistair Bennett." I tell him sincerely, he just shakes his hand in my direction._

_"Yeah, yeah, get out of here." He smiles weakly at me and I crouch down next to him one last time. _

_"I'll never forget you." His breathing begins to stop and I look away. He wanted to die alone. _

_ I kiss his forehead and squeeze his hand one last time. Then, I leave. Heavy tears dripping down my face as I go. I doubt they'll ever stop. _

BANG! The startling boom of the cannon awoke me from my far than peaceful slumber. I cursed as I fell out of bed, still feeling harassed from my latest dream.

I dragged myself over to the door and heaved it open to find Haymitch Abernathy waiting impatiently.

"Sweetheart," He nodded at me. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" I asked rudely.

"I see you've decided to ignore your schedule," He commented bluntly, pointing at my hand. I shrugged in response,

"What's it to you?"

"I've been sent to get you. You're coming to this meeting whether you like it or not." I glanced at my watch,

"Shouldn't you be getting drunk off your head right about now?" I asked bitingly, he rolled his eyes.

"You think I had an allotted time for that?"

"Oh sorry, you were drunk of your head _all _of the time weren't you?" My tone remained pleasant.

"_Were _being the operative word, sweetheart." He smiled, tone matching mine. "You have 15 minutes to get changed," he told me, before I shut the door in his face.

I reluctantly pulled myself into the bathroom. _Getting changed would take two minutes, not fifteen. _

That was before I saw my reflection.

My blonde hair stuck up in every direction, I sighed before I even touched my brush. The knots in my hair would take some tugging. My eyes were bleary and suspiciously bright, making me question whether I had only cried in my dream. On my forehead, a black bruise had formed and my knuckles were dusted in the same colour. My muscles were aching from the exertion of yesterday's catastrophe.

And for a second I saw myself before the rebellion. Thirteen year old Aven Laurel, a kid in the midst of a war she couldn't fight. Maybe I haven't changed so much.

I let out a sad sigh, before hopping into the shower to clean as much of the fight off me as possible.

I put on the first things my hands touched.

In my absence, District 13 seemed to have had an update. People strolled about in today's fashion; Converse, Hollister, Adidas. Anything that was big out there seemed to have wriggled its way into here. I'll admit it was odd, seeing Katniss Everdeen in Tommy Hilfiger was not something I ever expected to happen.

I brushed as many of the knots out of my hair as I could but it still looked pretty wild. I quickly gave up. Looks like it was going to be a hat day today.

Haymitch looked surprised when I walked out of my room, probably because I had actually come out on time.

"Coming, sweetheart?" I asked sarcastically as I strolled down the corridor, leaving Haymitch no choice but to scuttle after me.

**…Yeah, I planned to update sooner. But like, I had netball matches and running practise and parties and stuff. Procrastination ftw, right? No? Oh. Well sorry guys. I've had this written for AGES but I think my beta's dead so, lol sorry for the mistakes. I proof read…ish. I'll try and update my SYOT before the end of January, but I'll admit it's looking doubtful. I've just had a MAHOOSIVE writers block recently :/ SORRY :3 **

**Anyway, shout out to Blazing Amethyst because I wouldn't have uploaded if she hadn't nagged me, so go puke rainbows and unicorns in her direction, k guys? k. **

**Review?**

**~Dynamite-Dreams xo**


	8. Author's Note

**AUTHORS NOTE…**

I know what you're thinking. Last time Liz did an Authors note she deleted her story, so there better be a damn good reason for this. Seriously Liz, unless you're going into the Hunger Games or on a flying pilgrimage with Maximum Ride, I don't want to hear it. Your support is beautiful my readers, it really is.

You heard right. Unfortunately, I am not going flying; Max won't let me, (Something to do with my lack of wings…?) but all my stories will be on hiatus for a short while.

During the half term, a boy in my year died. Now, I'm only thirteen and he was even younger than me, just turned twelve. He had a terrible heart condition that they say only one in a million have. You see, when he goes to sleep his body shuts off completely. He has to rely on a heart machine to keep him alive until morning. It was a horrible disease and he had to be followed around constantly so medics were always on hand.

We were never really close but it's been hard on everyone. He had his whole life in front of him and I think that's what scared everyone the most. He was 12. It's horrible to even think about.

I hope you can understand my lack of updating now. I'll try and get back to writing as soon as I can.

~Dynamite-Dreams xo


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